Later, atop the repurposed freighter Hai Long (Sea Dragon boat), its hull repainted in vibrant crimson and gold, the wedding party bobbed gently amidst the skeletal remains of drowned Beijing. The half-submerged Forbidden City, its once-majestic vermilion walls now stained with algae and barnacles, formed a haunting backdrop to the joyous occasion.
It was a day of celebration—Baihu and Alam were officially tying the knot!
The nikah was underway, performed by the Imam, his voice amplified by a salvaged comms unit, with their soldier and general witnesses present. Alam presented Baihu with a ceremonial katana and a hefty 10 kg of gold as her mahr. The Imam delivered the khutbah, invoking Allah, the Most Merciful.
Then came Baihu's tradition: a shower of rice! As grains flew into the air, Alam looked bewildered.
“What is this?” he asked, scratching his head.
“Spread your arms, dear! Catch the rice! It’s a symbol of luck!” Baihu exclaimed, gleefully trying to catch as many grains as she could.
“Oh!” Alam replied, grabbing a broom and sweeping the deck, collecting the rice like a pro.
“Hahaha! You rascal!” Baihu laughed at his antics.
After the feast, as the sun began to set, the deck was quiet, with only a few guests lingering. The newlyweds leaned against the rail, soaking in the moment.
Baihu sighed, “We did it, huh?”
Alam took a sip of his drink, nodding. “Yeah…”
Baihu leaned her head on Alam’s chest, a content smile on her face.
“Hmm. Do all women like being submissive?” Alam asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
Baihu burst into laughter. “No, you silly! Some women are strong and independent, while others like a man to take charge. What do you prefer?”
“I like women who are true to themselves,” Alam replied, a grin spreading across his face.
“Good answer!” Baihu said, her eyes sparkling. “Now, let’s enjoy our luck and love!”
Luck. Love. Words that seemed to echo hollowly in the strategic briefings flashing across the screens in Zion’s command center. The maps displayed not hearts and flowers, but troop deployments, potential casualties, and the cold, hard logic of war.
On July 28, 2405, the Red Nation's vanguard advanced toward the Emerald League border, tension thick in the air like the humidity before a storm. Meanwhile, the Shangri-La army was amassing in Balochistan, though their intentions remained shrouded in mystery. Would they support the Emerald League against the Red Nation, or would they join the fray to further complicate the conflict?
On the Emerald League side, chaos reigned. The newly formed royal army was anything but united, with each general pushing their own strategies, creating a cacophony of confusion.
Zion, observing the unfolding situation, remarked, “The emerald league is on the move, and their vanguard is nearing our border. With the Shangri-La army gathering as well, the upcoming battle will be unpredictable. Our divisions and disorganization are a boon for them.” He paused, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “It’s time to give Juggernaut the green light. They’ve trained for years, and now they must prove their worth as the Khan of the Blood Khaganate.”
Kassandra leaned forward, her voice a mix of eagerness and concern. “Do we finally give Juggernaut the go-ahead?”
Zion nodded decisively. “Yes, let them proceed with the mission. It’s time for action.”
then the new reformed red army is massing their force on afghanistan, their main bulk is stop punching the crescent alliance and true horde in china, red nation territory in eurasia is resemble letter “n”, from frozen tip of bering strait to mountainous region of afghan.
Then next day in on one of emerald league barrack, Major Hazel was on the comms with Nigel, her voice crackling through the static. “Hey! Remember me?”
Nigel turned, a smile breaking across his face. “Of course! no one will ever forget your face. How are you doing?”
“Good,” Hazel replied, though her tone turned serious. “But the division within our army is concerning. We need to fight together.”
“Absolutely. Our alliance is crucial,” Nigel agreed, determination shining in his eyes. “Together, we can overcome these challenges and protect the people we care about.”
Hazel extended her hand, and Nigel grasped it firmly. Their handshake solidified their resolve as allies, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
As Hazel inspected their base, Patrick diligently recorded transactions, while Nara executed her duties nearby. Yu, however, was preoccupied, cradling a puppy in her arms, completely absorbed in the tiny creature’s cuteness.
“Hey, Tetsuya!” Hazel called out, her tone shifting to business. “What’s the status on our new technical pickups?”
Tetsuya, the base commander, responded with a report. “The technicals are fully repaired and ready for action, complete with new weapon attachments. We’re just waiting for the order to deploy.”
The tension in the air was palpable, with everyone acutely aware that the enemy would likely make the first move.
The following day, Nigel sent Hazel a blueprint for a cloaking device. “Check this out,” he said, displaying the intricate design on his computer screen.
Hazel gathered the team around, excitement bubbling in the air. “What do you all think?”
The group studied the blueprint, some eyes sparkling with curiosity. “This could help us hide from enemy detection!” one member exclaimed.
Tetsuya, thinking hard, chimed in, “I’ve seen something like this in the Free World. It’s an old technology, but it could still work for stealth operations.”
Patrick added, “I encountered something similar in Watery Grave City. It was a suit that allowed a person to become invisible, but it consumed a lot of energy.”
Nara, lost in thought, struggled to recall a memory that danced just out of reach.
Hazel nodded, considering the implications. “Since it requires so much energy, we should use it on our Buffalo tanks instead of individuals. It’s more effective that way.”
The team agreed, and Hazel concluded, “Alright, let’s prioritize putting cloaking devices on our five Buffalo tanks.”
Suddenly, Hazel shifted gears. “By the way, we used to be called the Bastard Division. Let’s rename ourselves the Serpent Division!”
A mixture of groans and laughter erupted. “Serpent Division? Really?” Tetsuya asked, raising an eyebrow. “Couldn’t we have gone with something less… reptilian?” “Hey,”
Hazel shrugged. “It could be worse. We could be the Snail Division.”
, but then the conversation turned to their new mascot. “So, what about our puppy?” Hazel asked, eyeing Yu, who still cradled the little dog.
Yu looked shy, having not yet named the pup. The team fell silent, searching for a suitable name. An awkward pause stretched on as everyone glanced around, unsure.
Hazel finally broke the silence. “Since he’s male, how about Gazz?”
The suggestion was met with nods of approval. “Gazz it is!” Hazel declared.
Yu smiled, her agreement evident. “I like it!”
“Alright, dogs—er, serpents!” Hazel rallied, raising her arm. “Let’s get to work!”
With renewed motivation, the team dispersed to their tasks, each member focused on preparing for the upcoming battle.
Later, the day of judgment arrived. The Red Nation invaded the Emerald League without a declaration of war, deploying their latest war machines—the Sentinels. Commanded by the hulking Juggernaut, these heavily armored warriors favored brutal assaults and were armed with devastating anti-tank weaponry. Their morale was high, and they were poised to dominate the battlefield.
The attack was so sudden that the Emerald League's border guards were like speed bumps to a giant bulldozer. Within hours, they reached Mashhad, a quarter of the Emerald League already conquered.
Back at their base, Hazel scrutinized video reports on the Sentinels, sketching their armor designs in a desperate attempt to identify weak points. The Sentinels, impervious to bullets and rockets, had proven nearly invulnerable. These were White Nation tech, after all, top-of-the-line and sold at exorbitant prices, but never with the manufacturing schematics. The White Nation held a tight grip on production, ensuring every nation remained dependent on their factories.
Nara leaned in, her eyes narrowing at the sketches. “I fought someone in an exo-suit once. It was almost like that.”
“Really? How did you defeat them?” Hazel asked, intrigued.
Nara recounted her battle. “The exo-suit was powerful, but I played it smart. I kept my distance, dodging their attacks while looking for a weak spot.” She pointed to the neck area of the Sentinel sketch, emphasizing its vulnerability. “That’s where I focused my strikes.”
“Interesting,” Hazel said, her mind racing. “But why were you fighting them in the first place?”
“Oh, well… Khaganate arena. They actually use those suits to create a spectacle. Unlike the Free World, which often requires blood games, Khagan society lets their fighters into the suits, and they… well, they bang each other. Metaphorically, of course. It’s about testing the suit’s capabilities and the pilot’s skill, not actual… you know.” Nara explained, a slight blush creeping up her neck.
Hazel’s curiosity continued to grow. “Crazy. So, what about EMPs? Are they immune?”
Nara shook her head. “Actually, no. The guy I fought was hit with an EMP, and he couldn’t move at all. That’s our chance to take them down.”
Hazel frowned. “Too bad our EMP munitions are so limited. The White Nation, in their infinite wisdom and bottomless greed, only sells them in small quantities and at astronomical prices. They know it’s the only reliable counter to their tech, so they control the supply to maximize their profits.” The scarcity wasn't just a coincidence; it was a deliberate economic strategy.
Determined, but knowing it was likely futile, Hazel contacted the command center to request EMP munitions. The response was as expected—the already meager stock was completely depleted after the recent border skirmishes. Frustration bubbled to the surface. “Damn it! We need an alternate plan for victory against those exo-suits.”
The Red Nation's vanguard, a well-oiled machine of ruthless precision, pressed their assault against the Emerald League's defenses. Superior numbers, advanced weaponry, and hardened veterans tilted the scales heavily in their favor. They pushed their forces to the limit, poised to shatter the Emerald League's lines and seize vital supplies.
Meanwhile, in the frenetic atmosphere of their cluttered workshop, the Serpent team raced against time to finalize their cloaking technology. This innovation held the potential to shift the tide of battle, but Hazel paced anxiously, the ticking clock a constant reminder of the looming deadline.
Then, a chilling message crackled through the comms: the council had ordered an immediate counter-offensive against the Red Nation. "We're not ready!" Hazel exclaimed, her heart sinking. "The Buffalo tanks aren't even operational!"
The order, however, wasn't born of strategic brilliance, but rather desperation and political maneuvering. News had reached the council of Kaveh's past dealings with the Red Nation – whispers of backroom deals and exchanged favors before the invasion. Now, with the Red Army tearing through their defenses, the other council members saw an opportunity: a desperate, high-risk gamble to prove their resolve and, more importantly, to force Kaveh to publicly demonstrate his loyalty by supporting a swift, decisive action. It was a move born of paranoia and political expediency, not sound military strategy.
Forced into action, Hazel rallied her troops. "All right, Serpent Division! We're attacking with the forty Stride tanks. Move out to Kavir Oasis!" The Oasis was not merely a strategic point; it was a cultural and trade hub of immense importance. They could not afford to lose it.
As they marched towards Kavir Oasis, a palpable tension gripped the air. Hazel barked orders, emphasizing the need to protect their resources. "Use the caves to conceal our supplies," she instructed. "The enemy possesses heavy infantry and can strike from any direction. We cannot afford to lose what we've built!"
The soldiers nodded, determination etched on their faces as they scrambled to secure the supplies in the cave. Every moment counted; they knew their survival depended on it.
Night fell, cloaking the camp in darkness, but peace was nowhere to be found. The sounds of distant clashes reverberated like a drumbeat, keeping everyone on edge. Soldiers stood alert, eyes darting at every rustle in the wind, their hearts racing with anticipation. Sleep was a luxury they could not afford; the tension was suffocating as they braced for an imminent attack.
In the shadows, a sense of camaraderie grew among the weary warriors. They exchanged nervous jokes to lighten the atmosphere, even as the weight of the impending battle bore down on them. “At least we know our supplies are safe… unless the enemy decides to throw a party in the cave!” one soldier quipped, earning a few chuckles despite the gravity of the situation.